Page 56 of Slash & Burn

My hand froze in mid-air, because we both knew what my answer was going to be. “Not my fave,” I said, feeling bad for poking a hole in the fun night he’d planned.

I hated scary movies, even though everyone else in my family loved them. They used to hold an annual watch party at my parents’ house for the whole neighborhood each fall and I never made it past the opening credits before I’d sneak out and hide in my room.

“Okay. Do you considerJawsa scary movie?”

All the air sagged out of me. “No, god, that’s a classic. I thought you meant one of those slasher films.”

His cheek dimpled as he looked at me sideways. “Jilly, did you really think I’d bring you to one of those?”

Taking in the bedding piled up under me, the bottles of water he’d tossed in the middle of the mattress, and the perfect view we had of the screen over the tops of the cars in front of us, I felt a little foolish. “Sorry. Of course not.”

He finished his popsicle and held out a hand for my stick before tucking both in a bag beside him. “No need to apologize. Now get over here.” Grady shifted, patting the spot between his legs as he leaned into the pillows stacked against the cab. The credits were starting and through the window behind us we could make out the sounds of the opening bonfire scene from the truck’s radio.

I’d been perfectly comfortable next to him, but as soon as I settled inside Grady’s legs and leaned back against his chest I felt more safe and secure than I could ever remember. Not even the sight of the young girl getting eaten by a terrifyingly huge shark could upset me with his body wrapped around mine.

“You okay?” he whispered after the gruesome scene was over, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“Mmmhmm.” I sighed, letting my arm rest on his thigh. Closing my eyes I could feel his heart beating against my back. It was strong, and going faster than mine. “Are you?” I asked, twisting to look at him over my shoulder.

“How could I not be, Jilly?” he asked, his profile lit up by the screen as he licked his lips, his eyes on my mouth.

I suddenly understood why his heart was racing, and mine sped up at the realization. I crossed my legs, trying to stifle the fresh pulse point hammering between them. But when I adjusted myself I unknowingly grazed him and he groaned, low and guttural in my ear.

“Easy, beautiful, or neither of us will be okay for long.”

The strain in his voice had my pussy clenching, and I swear to god he must have felt me shift again because his hands took hold of my waist and pinned me still in front of him.

“I meant what I said about not just wanting to fuck you, Jill. But making you come right here, right now, is very much on the table. Especially if you keep pushing that perfect fucking ass into my cock.”

His voice was so low, I knew no one else could have heard him, but I felt scandalized just the same.

And I liked it.

I was still for a second, just long enough for his grip on me to loosen, and then I did it again, harder this time. I tilted my hips, rotating them back into him until I felt where he was pressed against the zipper of his shorts so hard it had to be painful.

He tsked, but there was humor in his voice when he said, “My smarty pants wants to play, huh?”

I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted, but everything about Grady was turning me on. His thighs bunching when I moved and the thick solid muscle pressing my legs closer together. His voice, dark and low and yet still so careful. Even the heat of his breath as it skittered across my neck.

I was so engulfed by him, my senses so keyed up, I almost jumped when I felt his hands trailing over my hips, and dipping between my thighs to pry them apart.

“Do you trust me?”

It was a stupid question, because he had to have known I already did. But I nodded, letting him slowly force my thighs against his, giving him room to slip one hand between my legs while the other gathered the lightweight fabric of my dress and moved it out of his way.

“How quiet do you think you can be, beautiful? Cause we can’t have another outburst like we did at the pool.”

Just the mention of that night had me squirming, and Grady’s husky laugh filled my ears.

“I’ve thought about it too,” he admitted, his fingertip tracing a delicate line up my slit and back down again, coasting over the fabric of my thong with torturous lightness. “Even when I knew I shouldn’t, I’ve played that scene out.” He fisted the fabric in his hand, tugging it to the side as he pressed me back into him. The low growl that rumbled through his chest shook me, and I gripped his thighs with both hands.

“Did you think about it too?” he asked. His voice was barely more than a whisper, but I still heard it—how much he wanted to hear me say I had.

“Of course I did,” I hissed, keeping my voice as low as I could while he sped up his movements.

“Fuck, Jill,” he sighed, shifting to press himself into my back again, rubbing himself against me as if the friction would be enough to get him off.

When I went to reach behind me, desperate to touch him just like I was that night, he growled. Grabbing my wrist and putting my hand back on his thigh.

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